


Auxiliary Power

by Gingerhermit



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-18 10:12:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingerhermit/pseuds/Gingerhermit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fill for this prompt on the Star Trek Into Darkness Kink Meme:<br/>http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/2836.html?thread=1180948</p>
<p>"Trigger warning: torture</p>
<p>John Harrison doesn’t immediately rescue Kirk’s crew from the Klingons. Instead, Uhura’s dire prediction comes true; they’re easily subdued and taken aboard a Klingon ship to be interrogated and tortured. As a human female, Uhura is viewed as the weakest of the trio, and being the only person who can speak Klingon she is unsurprisingly selected to go first. Spock volunteers to take her place, arguing that as a Vulcan, he does not lie and is therefore a more reliable source of information. Not to mention, it will be harder to break him, and he will therefore provide more sport.</p>
<p>Harrison doesn’t show up with guns blazing until halfway through Spock’s interrogation, which a horrified Kirk and Uhura have both been forced to witness."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auxiliary Power

**Author's Note:**

> While my sequel for The Descent is being beta'd, I couldn't resist this prompt. I've dedicated this little fic to all the Spock/Uhura shippers who I pissed off with The Descent, but who were good sports about it (mostly). :) Reboot Spock/Uhura really is a beautiful pairing, and I have a mad crush on Reboot Uhura!
> 
> The torture is probably not as graphic as the original prompter intended, but hardcore torture actually really squicks me out. Enjoy!

“ _Bring out the female. The first to break her will take her as their bounty.”_

The pleased grunts of approval from the Klingon squadron that circled around their leader turned Nyota Uhura’s blood to ice. She stood frozen, unable to move or breathe as the hostile soldiers began clanging their weapons against the metal bars of the holding cell in a rhythmic dirge designed to intimidate and unnerve their captives. It was highly effective. Although she knew that Spock was not proficient in Klingon, he seemed to understand what was happening well enough when their eyes locked in a desperate moment.

Captain Kirk was still out cold on the dirty floor of their cage—to his credit, he’d fought like a mad dog to the last. It was only after their captain was knocked unconscious that the Klingons were able to subdue them. Of their small crew, only the three of them survived to be taken captive onboard the Klingon vessel. Given the circumstances, Nyota did not consider herself lucky to be a survivor. This was only the beginning.

A burly guard slung the cell door open brazenly, with no weapons drawn. It was a pointed insult to consider them so weak that they could be taken with bare hands. A fire leapt up inside her as the Klingon clamped a hand around her arm and began to drag her out. This was really happening, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. She knew that at the very least, if she honored them by being difficult to break they might gift her with a clean death in the end.  She twisted in the Klingon’s grasp, raking her nails down the side of his face and spitting at him.

The entire group erupted into harsh, hearty laughter while the guard struck her so hard in the face that she fell back against the wall, before grabbing her arm again and wrenching her back to her feet.

_“The human bitch wants to play with you, Karuk!”_  The Klingon who was obviously the captain of the vessel barked in amusement from where he was standing on the far side of the brig. It was more like a dungeon than a civilized jailing area, however, with its dim light glinting across the jagged metal instruments lining the walls.

 “Wait.” Spock had not moved, but his voice was strong and commanded attention. “ _Do any among you speak the Romulan tongue?”_  

There was a short pause before the Klingon captain grunted in assent. He was clearly intrigued as he stepped closer, and when he spoke it was in a harsh, messy Romulan.  Compared to the clean, sharp accents Spock had used, it was positively vulgar. “ _Nothing you have to say can interest me, Vulcan dog. After this bitch has broken, I will scatter her bones at your feet.”_

_"She is our translator, nothing more. She knows nothing of interest to you. I, however, have had dealings with the Federation. Have you not wondered how a Vulcan came to be on a mercenary ship?”_

“Spock, no.” Nyota squirmed in the grip of her captor, stomping on the guard’s foot and growling in Klingon, “ _I know many things. He is lying to you. He is no one.”_

“ _The human bitch is eager for it,”_ The captain laughed. _“But she knows as well as I do that Vulcan dogs cannot lie. You work with the Federation, Vulcan?”_

_“That is for you to find out,”_ Spock replied evenly, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “ _If you can.”_

“No!” Uhura nearly screamed in frustration as she was forcibly thrown back in the cage, and Spock was led out instead. “Goddammit Spock! Don’t you dare do this.”

 On the ground, Kirk began to stir as the bars slammed shut. He groaned, slowly pushing up on his hands as he slurred groggily, “What’s happening…”

Nyota did not answer him, her eyes clinging desperately to Spock as he was led towards what was clearly the interrogation area. The metal chair in the middle of the room was stained many shades of red and brown. Spock did not look back or otherwise acknowledge her as he was pushed roughly down and strapped into the chair. Nyota’s eyes began to water despite herself as her helplessness burned a hole in her chest like acid.

 Kirk staggered slowly to his feet, leaning heavily on the bars as he looked first at Nyota and then followed her horrified gaze. “Fuck.”

The Klingons began with what they considered to be light sport, taking turns striking Spock so hard in the face that his head cracked back against the chair. Before long they were chuckling roughly amongst themselves at the putrid color of Vulcan blood.

Kirk cursed loudly as he hurled himself quite uselessly against the bars, as though he could somehow break through them through sheer force of will even though he could barely stand. He seemed to be doing his best to draw the Klingon’s attention but failed miserably. Nyota’s one point of pride was that their captors did not realize the value of Kirk and would not, at least not while she and Spock were still alive. Unless Kirk did something stupid like….

“I’m captain of that vessel. Take me instead, you Klingon pieces of shit.”

 “Be quiet!” Nyota rounded on Kirk violently, pushing him hard enough that he lost his balance and fell back against the wall. It was a small relief that no one seemed to be paying them any attention. Not only did they not speak English, but they were currently occupied with their new toy. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I won’t let either of you take the heat for this!”

“It’s too late for that,” Nyota growled at him in an angry whisper, hot tears spilling over to wet her cheeks.  She was doing her best to block out the sound of Spock’s muted groans, even though each one tore a piece of her soul away. “It’s over. We lost. We’re all going to die.”

“No, I don’t accept that. We can still--”

“I don’t care what you accept. All we can do now is keep them from realizing who you are, and what they can get from you.” Nyota’s voice was raw to the point of breaking, but she continued on fiercely. “If they think that you’re no one, they may kill you quickly. Spock’s out there right now because he’s trying to protect us, to protect you, so don’t you dare let him die in vain, or I swear to god I’ll kill you myself before they can get to you.”

Kirk blinked. In a different situation, he clearly would made some glib remark about her being hot when she’s mad, but instead their captain looked just as wretched as Nyota felt. His gaze kept being drawn to where Spock was still being pummeled. Kirk made a wounded sound, running a hand over his face. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

Nyota turned away from him with a frustrated huff. As much as she desperately wished that Kirk could pull one of those magically brilliant solutions he was famous for out of thin air, she was not an idiot. There was indeed such a thing as a no-win scenario, and it had found them at last. Her fingers curled around the cold metal bars as she forced herself to look at Spock. He was doing this for her, and she owed it to him and to herself not to look away. She felt every blow as though it were her own; each one had been stolen from her.

Kirk was pacing the cage behind her like a restless panther, but she ignored him. The Klingons had tired of softening up their prey, and were currently arguing over which tools were the sharpest. Spock’s head hung low against his chest and his face was streaked with green, but he raised his gaze suddenly to lock on hers. Nyota’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she gripped the bars so tightly her fingers bruised. She knew full well that being a Vulcan meant that Spock had complete control of his mental and biological functions. He could simply will his heart to cease beating.  He could end this now, if he wanted. She knew why he didn’t.  She was next.

_“Breathe with me,”_ Nyota wrapped her mouth soundlessly around the Vulcan words, and she willed her breathing to slow despite her thundering heart. She could see Spock doing the same, his eyes never leaving hers.

Breathe in.

Spock did not flinch as a henchman snapped one of his fingers back.

Breathe out.

Another crack. Spock had such beautiful hands. He usually only let her touch them in private, twining those long fingers with her own.

Breathe in.

Snap.

Sometimes when Spock would stroke one finger down her cheek gently, just that simple gesture would make her shiver.

Behind her, Kirk was punching the wall until his knuckles bled.

Breathe out.

 The leader finally selected a curved knife.

Breathe in. Oh god, please no….

Everything exploded in a blast of light. Nyota was thrown back into Kirk by the force of it, and her head rang. The ship was filled with hazy smoke and the sounds of a frantic but brief battle. When she was able to see again, Nyota could not believe the scene before her.  All of the Klingons were scattered across the floor like ragdolls. There was a man standing in the middle of the room, barely breaking a sweat. He turned towards her with his phaser drawn.

“The torpedoes your captain so eloquently threatened me with. How many are there?”

             

* * *

 

 

 Nyota managed to keep her composure exactly until they returned to the ship. They materialized on the transporter pad as an odd sight. Spock was hanging limply between Kirk and Nyota, and John Harrison was standing there with his hands stretched out as though they were in handcuffs. They weren’t, but Harrison seemed to find it amusing to pretend.

A flurry of action descended upon the transporter bay: Harrison was quickly surrounded by guards to escort him to the brig, and Spock was settled on a hovering stretcher programmed directly to medical. The moment that stretcher whisked out of her sight, Nyota’s knees betrayed her and she collapsed to the ground with a choked sob.

A strong hand hooked under her arm, helping her up firmly but kindly. She was surprised to see that it was Kirk, who she thought had left with Harrison.

“I think we both have a date with medical.” It was now Kirk whose voice was calm and quiet as he steered her feet down the hall. “It’s over now. He’s gonna be alright. You have my permission to kill him for pulling that noble bullshit when he wakes up, though.”

 

* * *

 

When Spock awoke from his medically induced stasis, it was with Nyota Uhura’s body delicately tucked next to his own on the biobed. She had been careful not to disturb him or the mechanisms aiding in his accelerated healing process, but any time a nurse had even thought to reprimand her they were greeted with the most exquisite Glare of Impending Death. For some reason, it sent them scurrying on their way quite quickly.

The green bruises on Spock’s face were still present but slowly fading, and both of his hands were encased in biotech gloves to facilitate the already mending bones. When he opened his eyes, Nyota greeted him with a soft smile.

“Welcome back.”

“Where--” Spock’s voice was hoarse, and he seemed slightly disoriented.

“We’re back on the Enterprise.”

“You’re unharmed?”

 “I’m fine.” Nyota’s smile was warmer still, as she reached up and very gently brushed her fingertips across Spock’s bruised jaw. She anticipated his next question easily. “So is the Captain. We’re all fine. We have Harrison in custody. It’s over.”

Spock seemed to relax at this, his eyes shutting for a moment. “That is… remarkable.”

“I know.” Nyota swallowed, trying to push back the horror of the last twenty-four hours and just focus on the here and now. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Just rest now.”

“Nyota. I--”

She silenced him with a soft kiss, brushed lightly against his still cracked but healing lips. She did not pull away when she murmured softly against his mouth, “Don’t you _ever_ pull something like that again, you hear me?”

“It was--”

“And _don’t_ say it was only logical.”

 “—worth it.” The hint of a smile tugged ever so slightly at the corner of Spock’s mouth as he opened his eyes to look at her. “It was worth it.”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fairly impulsively, so my apologies for any errors! 
> 
> As always, foreign languages are denoted in italics as I'm not even going to attempt to BS my way through Klingon, Romulan, and Vulcan!


End file.
